In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down
And cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving I am leaving but the fighter still remains

The hits kept on coming that night. Punches to the gut. The face. His side, his temple, his arms.

There was a unique feel to it. The way that the air would sound as his opponents fist sailed through the air before landing on its target. Him. The way the fist would sound as it came into contact with flesh and bone and muscle. The way his skin felt as it rippled and how his entire body reacted to the hit, sending him staggering backwards.

This was what he knew. What he was good at. This was who he was.

His opponent swung again and before this punch could land, Klaus ducked, sending his own arm out, his hand in a fist as he came in contact with the other man's chest. One hit turned into two. Then three. Four. Five.

Marcel staggered, his eyes wide with shock. He was sure he'd won. But then again, they all were so sure they were going to win. But no one won. Not against him. And as his body fell backwards, back hitting the ground with a loud thud, the breath left Marcel's chest. Slowly, the roars of the crowd came back to him just as the announcer grabbed his wrist.

"Reigning champion, the one, the only, the king...Niklaus Mikaelson!" His fist was brought into the air along with the announcer's as the crowd cheered.

This was what he was born for. He was nothing without this. He was, above all, a boxer. Nothing more, nothing less.

"What can I get ya?" The voice wasn't one that he recognized as he slid into his usual booth, Stefan sliding in across from him. It was their tradition after every match. If Klaus won, Stefan bought for the night. And Klaus always won.

"Two whiskeys. And you can just leave the bottle with us." Stefan grinned up at the blonde and Klaus finally looked up. He knew every girl in this place, he should. His family owned it. But she was new. Her blonde hair was in large curls, draped over her shoulder as the red dress she was wearing glittered against the lights of the club. Swing music played from the band stand and screeches of laughter could be heard from the dance floor as couples danced.

"Can I help you?" She'd caught him looking and her blue eyes pierced through his with an intensity that he was more than a bit startled at coming from such a small and gentle looking creature. Her hands were on her hips as she looked him over, no doubtedly taking in the bruises and cuts adorning his face and the rest of his body. The wounds were in stark contrast against the fancy suit he wore but he didn't care. It only made him look all the more dangerous.

"Just bring the booze. Ignore grumpy over here." She looked back at Stefan to nod before leaving them. Only looking back over her shoulder once to make eye contact with Klaus.

"Who is she?" He dragged her eyes away from her. From the ravishing sight of her body flouncing away from him. He'd have her. He had to. There was no other choice for him.

"New girl probably. Rebekah hasn't shut up about her. Says she's both the most annoying girl she's ever met and the only one she'd call a friend in this joint." Another girl-Katherine-came up with their drinks in a few moments and Klaus was slightly disappointed that it hadn't been the blonde.

A bottle of whiskey later however and Stefan was busy with his sister in their booth. Flirting with her as he always did, kissing her. It was something that Klaus was used to and yet...he still needed to get away from it. Spotting a familiar head of blonde curls over at the bar, he took the opportunity to escape the two of them.

"I didn't catch your name earlier." He leaned his arms on the bar top, giving her one of his signature smirks that were known to melt any woman's icy exterior. She rolled her eyes, pouring a glass of bourbon and sliding it over to a dark haired man on the other side of the bar.

"I'm cutting you off after that one Damon." The dark haired man grumbled at her and she turned away, stopping in front of Klaus and placing her hands on the bar. "The reason you didn't catch my name," She flicked a piece of hair off from where it had stuck to her neck. He noticed that her skin was glistening slightly with sweat. He couldn't blame her though, it was hot in the small club. So many bodies crammed in a small space. "Is because I didn't throw it." She shot him a smirk back before pushing away.

She took out a glass from under the bartop, setting it on the counter and then grabbing another bottle of whiskey and pouring it before sliding it to him. "I'm assuming that since you own the place you can afford another drink, Mr. Mikaelson."

"Klaus. Please." He winked at her as he took the drink. Watching as she collected money from one of the other men at the end of the bar.

She was amazing to watch. So energetic. Flirting just enough with the customers to get them to give her a large tip but not enough where she'd have to fight them off of her. As the night wore on, the club gradually emptied and soon it was just the two of them and several bus boys that were cleaning the tables and floors.

"So," It was the first time she'd spoken to him since she revealed she'd known his name. "Did you lose?" It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about and she seemed to notice because she smiled, setting down the rag she was using to wipe down the counters as she pushed herself up so she was sitting on the counter with her back to him, her legs dangling over the side. She looked sideways at him, her hair falling over her shoulder. She was...breathtaking. He couldn't look away from her. "The fight. Did you lose?"

"I never lose sweetheart."

"That's good I guess," She swiveled around and hopped down on his side of the counter, brushing off her dress as she gave him a smile. "Then I guess you could walk a girl home and beat off any potential muggers she might come across." He grinned, sliding off his stool and offering his arm to her.

"That I could."

"So you're a boxer, huh?" They walked slowly down the quiet city streets. The occasional car would drive by but other than that and a few bar stragglers, the streets were empty save for them.

"And you tend bar." She rolled her eyes, nudging him slightly with her elbow. "Yes, love, I am a boxer."

"Why? If you don't mind me asking, its not like you need the money and I mean...it has to hurt." She stopped outside of one of the housing buildings her hand reaching up to trace along one of his new cuts.

"Its rewarding. In a curious way." She dropped her hand, nodding as she pulled her shawl closer around her.

"This is me," She nodded towards the building as he took a step closer.

"I still never caught your name love," He quirked an eyebrow at her and she smiled, looking down slightly.

"Its Caroline. Caroline Forbes." With that, she stood up on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek quickly before pulling away. "It was nice to meet you boxer Klaus Mikaelson. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon." She was in the building before he could respond. Left to utter his reply into the quiet night as he watched the door swing closed behind her.

"That you will Caroline. That you will."

The months passed quickly and as quickly as he won his fights, he won her heart. They were inseparable. Anyone that knew Caroline, knew that she was Klaus'. And anyone that knew Klaus knew that she was not to be touched. She was at every fight. She felt every hit, every bruise and cut. Some nights she would beg him to stop. In between the sheets as she pressed a damp cloth to his wounds, her body pressed against his.

Every time she asked however, she knew the answer. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It was who he was. It was what had brought him fame in this cold and unforgiving town. At least it wasn't the mob, he would tell her. At least he was't killing people for the money he got. She would nod silently into his chest before going back to cleaning his wounds.

This fight was different though. He could feel her in the stands, watching him as she always did. Something felt...off though. He'd lost his fare share of fights over the months but none of the times had he felt like this. Marcel was the killer, that was what they called him. He'd grown over the past few months and his hits had gotten stronger.

Klaus felt it the second that he stepped into the ring. The look Marcel gave him was more than simply competition between fighters. It was hatred. He was here for revenge.

The bell rang and Marcel wasted no time jumping into action. The first two punches he threw didn't land but when Klaus moved to dodge the third, Marcel got him into a headlock.

"Lost a lot of money last time you beat me Mikaelson." The angry voice growled into his ear and Klaus pushed out of the hold, rounding on Marcel. He was panting slightly, his anger growing with every taunting look from his opponent.

Klaus swung and Marcel grabbed him within a second, pushing him onto the ground. "Your girl is quite pretty isn't she?" The words send fire through his veins and with a move that was so fast not even he could comprehend it, he was off the ground, his fist hitting Marcel square in the jaw. He staggered back a few feet from the force of the hit all bravado falling from his face.

"Talk about her and I'll make you wish you were dead." Klaus growled just as Marcel through another punch. He dodged, throwing his own fist and landing it right under Marcel's rib.

"I think I'll see what all the fuss is about once I beat you in this ring." As Klaus pulled away Marcel's fist landed on his cheek with a force that had Klaus falling sideways onto the ground. His head hitting so hard that he saw stars. He heard the announcer counting. He had to get up. Looking out he saw her. Her hand covered her mouth as she stared wide eyed at him on the ground, blood dripping from a gash in his cheek, blurring his vision.

Before the time was up, he was back on his feet, landing two more punches. Marcel grinned, blood staining his teeth a menacing red. "I think I'll enjoy fucking that pretty blonde. I wonder how she'll feel when there's a real cock in her." Klaus landed another punch. "Imagine how she'll scream my name." Another hit to the gut. "Come on buddy, you know she's only here for the winners."

With that Marcel took a small step back, his fist rearing up for another punch. Before Klaus could even bring his hands up to block, Marcel had landed the perfect uppercut to his jaw. His feet left the ground as he sailed through the air for a second before landing hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Past the three counts that he needed to get back up. Unable to move as Marcel was announced as the winner of the match.

Stefan was there in a moment, his voice sounding as if it was coming through a tunnel, his face blurring as Klaus blinked a few times. He heard Caroline yelling and when he turned his head he noticed two of the bouncers holding her back. He saw her punch one of them in the jaw and had he been able to move much he would have laughed and congratulated her on the perfect right hook. But before he could open his mouth, he slipped into unconsciousness.

He woke up in his own bed to hushed whispers talking somewhere near him and a soft touch patting his forehead with a damp cloth. "Nik?" He knew that voice and when he opened his eyes sure enough there she was. Her hair pinned up messily, her face void of make up and yet there she saw, caring for his wounds yet again, looking as beautiful as he'd ever seen her.

"I love you." His voice was gurgled slightly and she grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you too." She looked up as he heard the hushed voices stop and footsteps come closer to him.

"Hey man," Stefan was there then, grinning down at him. "You really can't take a hit anymore can you?" Klaus laughed, his chest feeling as if the weight would kill him. And what was intended as a laugh turned out to be a cough.

"I'll be okay in a few days." He felt Caroline's hand stop moving as he spoke. He watched as Stefan shared a look with her.

"Nik," He looked back at her, his girl, giving him a look that he knew couldn't be followed by any sort of good news. "Stefan talked to Dr. Fell." Her voice was too cautious. He didn't like it. She was never this serious with him. She was either teasing him or fighting with him, rarely serious. "He doesn't think that you can fight again. Not without serious and life threatening consequences." Her hand slipped into his as his eyes closed as he let out a breath, ignoring the pain that that one simple act caused.

"I mean Caroline could always take your place." His eyes opened as Stefan spoke. "It was pretty great actually. After you passed out Marcel was gloating with his trainer and she marched right up to him and gave him a really long lecture about how much of an asshole he was and how he was lucky she had self restraint and then she just clocked him one right in the jaw. Poor bastard even took a few steps back from the force of it." Klaus turned to Caroline who was looking intently at the cut on his brow, dabbing the cloth at it while trying to hide her blush.

He grinned at her as she made brief eye contact with him.

"That's my girl." He brought his hand up to the back of her head, bringing her head down so he could kiss her. "That's my girl." He closed his eyes again. Letting out another sigh as he felt Caroline rest her head against his chest.

He wouldn't always be a boxer. He was a good one, yes. A strong one. But it wasn't who he would always be.

He would, however, first and foremost, from the moment he came into this world to the moment he would leave it, be a fighter. And that was enough.

Drop me a review and tell me what you thought? Idk I kinda liked this one.